All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) Read online

  Drea Renaldi was a young professor at Boston College. They'd met at the library and about five years ago had started going out for coffee. When Drea introduced Polly to her very Italian family, they all decided the innocent young thing from Iowa needed a big family. It was Drea’s family who embraced her after her father died and taught her that family was more than flesh and blood.

  Drea had two brothers, the older one had promised to hurt Joey for Polly. She told him she had it taken care of. He didn't believe her, but left the boy alone. The Renaldis weren't too happy with her decision to leave them. That's how they saw it. None of their family ever left Boston, so how could she? But, Drea told her it would be alright and was there with Sal to help her pack. Those strapping brothers of hers and a few cousins made sure everything was packed into the truck correctly, because no one was messing with their Polly.

  She took the time to write chatty notes to all of them, including pictures of some of the renovation. She didn't want to tell them about Joey or the murders, so she left that out. Joey didn't have this email address, so she hesitantly opened the one that he and she had communicated on during their time together. She'd left it off her phone, not wanting to even deal with him. There were 94 emails in there. She quickly got rid of the spam and random junk, leaving sixty-seven from Joey. She hadn't checked this account since late June and was surprised he continued to send emails even when she wasn't responding.

  Polly shook her head. How could he not understand it was over?

  The subject line of the last email read, "I'll find you." It was dated this morning.

  She opened the email and her heart sank.

  "Polly I miss you so much. I can't believe you won't talk to me. I also can't believe you told the Sheriff to answer my call. I've never hurt you before and I wouldn't hurt you now. I have to find you. I have to talk to you. We have to straiten {sic} this out. I love you with my whole heart and I only want you to be happy. Love, Joey"

  There was a sour taste in her mouth. She closed the email and then closed the tab in her browser. She sat there staring at the screen and finally shut the computer down and closed the lid. Dropping her head into her arms on the table, she shut her eyes and tried to relax.

  The door chime woke her up and she glanced at her watch. It was 3:30, she'd been asleep for over an hour. She shook her hair back, fluffed it with her fingers and tried to come fully awake. The door chimed again and she got up and trotted to answer it.

  When she saw it was Henry, she said, "Hi there! What are you doing here?"

  "I was checking to see if I could unload some flooring. I just picked it up and if I don't have to carry it home and then back over here, that would be great. I didn't know if the DCI was going to let you back in until I saw your truck parked out front."

  "Sure! Do you want to drive around to the side doors and I'll open those for you?" she asked.

  "That would be great. I'm going to call Jimmy and Sam to see if they're free." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed as he walked back down the steps to the truck. Polly shut the door behind him and walked through the main area to the side doors beside the room where Henry had his temporary shop set up. She opened one door and saw there was a large rock already in place to hold it open. Another rock was there to hold the other side open as well. She propped the two doors open and waited. Soon, Henry backed up a small panel truck, parked it and got out.

  He opened the back doors and said, "They're both going to be here in a couple of minutes. I'd asked them to meet me at my shop, but this will be better.

  "So, we're going to be able to get in and get started Monday morning?" he asked.

  "Aaron says the bathroom is off limits. Heck, it's all sealed up. If anyone tried to get in, the DCI would know about it. But other than that we get the place back." Polly’s heart brightened as she thought about getting back to work.

  "Are you staying here now?" He asked.

  "Yes. Even though nothing is finished, it is beginning to feel like home. I want to be able to bring some furniture up so I can be more comfortable upstairs and I can't wait to get into my apartment!"

  "I know," he said. "But, it's going to take several weeks before we get those floors installed and ready for use."

  "That's alright. I’m excited that we can get started again. I know we only lost three days, but it was three days!"

  "We'll make those days up in no time. Don't worry about it. You know, we could throw a rug down in the office area down here and bring some of your stuff up so you have a little more space to spread out. Or, if you want some more things in your room, we could bring those up and move them across when the real bedroom is finished. We'll have your living room and bedroom done all at once."

  "I might go downstairs tomorrow and pick a couple of chairs out to take upstairs,” she said. “It would be nice to have something comfortable to sit on and read. I did buy a space heater today. It's starting to get chilly."

  "Yes, it is. I think you're going to love the radiant heat in the floor, though. That was a great choice for this old place," he said.

  Then he asked, "Are you doing alright with this craziness? I wish I would have been here the other day. I felt badly you had to face that."

  "Oh, I was fine. It was poor Doug who was so shaken up. He wasn't that freaked out when he saw my underwear!"

  Henry laughed, "Polly, that story has made it all over town."

  She blushed and dipped her head. "I know."

  "People definitely know who you are now. Maybe infamous is the word we should use to describe you."

  "Oh, crap," she muttered. "Of all the things I wanted, notoriety over purple panties came nowhere close."

  "Well, since you were such a good sport about it, I think you gained a lot of points … if that makes you feel any better."

  "Not really,” Polly sighed. “But, oh well."

  "So, Pol, tell me the truth. How are you doing with everything that has happened around here?"

  She looked at him and smiled. "Wow, Henry. No one has called me Pol since Dad died."

  He stuttered. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you."

  "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "It was just strange to hear someone use that name. Sometimes I miss him. And yes, I'm really okay. I know Aaron is around and Danny Boylston seems to know what he’s doing. The whole thing is just sad. Lydia and Andy were both close to the family, so I feel badly for them, but I'm fine."

  Five men drove up in two old pickups. Sam and Jimmy got out of the driver's seats and said, "Hey, Henry. We brought extra help because we figured there would be a lot of boards!"

  "That's a great idea guys. Thanks. We'll get this unloaded in no time.” Henry pointed at the wall and said, "Sam, why don't we stack it right here. You know how I like it."

  Polly pulled Henry back a few feet. "I've got some cash if you want to pay these other three today,"

  "No, I've got it, Polly. We'll get this done in a few minutes,” he replied. “I'll take care of it."

  "Alright, if you're sure," she said.

  "I'm sure."

  The six of them unloaded the truck of the wood Polly had purchased from Brad Giese. It was beautiful and looked as if there was enough to cover the two rooms, but it didn't look like it was everything she had purchased.

  "Is this it, Henry?" she asked.

  "Oh no. This is the first round of milling Butch finished. He called me, knowing we wanted to get started right away. I'll pick up more from him next week. There will be plenty. No worries."

  "I wasn't worried, just curious," she said.

  When everything was neatly stacked against the wall, Henry walked outside and handed each of the guys some cash. He thanked them and they left, then he walked back in.

  One of them called out, "Ms. Giller?"

  "Yes?" she asked.

  "I'm going to use the bathroom off the stage, if that's okay." he said.

  "Oh," she called. "Sure! No problem. Thanks a lot."

  Henry said to her, "You know, D
avey's serves prime rib on Saturday nights. Are you busy for dinner tonight?"

  "Oh, Henry. Yes I am. Beryl is having some sort of girls' night thing at her house and though I'm a little afraid of what that means exactly, I'm going to show up. I'm so sorry. I would have loved to go. We were all there Wednesday night and it was terrific."

  "No problem,” he assured her. “I didn't want you to have to sit at home alone on a Saturday night. No one should have to do that unless they want to!"

  "Well, I'm not going to be alone, that's for sure." Polly jumped when she heard a tone ringing. "Oh! My bread! I'm making rolls to take tonight. We’re doing potluck!"

  They heard the front door open and close. Henry said, "That must be him leaving. Just a sec." He ducked out the side door and looked around the building, watching the second pickup drive off."

  "Yep, that was the rest of them," he said coming back in the side door. "I'll shut the doors when I leave. And, Pol?"

  "Yeah?" she said.

  "If you need anything, please call me. I'm not that far away. I should have said something earlier. This is a big, damned place and you're here all alone."

  "Thanks, Henry. I appreciate it. Trust me, if I need you here, I won't hesitate to call. But, I'm fine. I kind of like it. The feeling that somehow all of this is mine. I love being back in Iowa, feeling safe in a little town where people pay attention to each other."

  "Have a good time tonight, Polly," he said as he picked up a rock and set it aside so the door could close, "and do me a favor? You have to tell me stories on Monday about what happens with those ladies tonight."

  She giggled, "Absolutely!" Then she stopped. "Unless I can't because they're too embarrassing."

  Henry pushed the second rock out of the way and let the door close behind him. He tugged on the doors to ensure they locked and she heard him drive away.

  Polly went back into the kitchen, pulled the dough out of the bread machine and shaped it into rolls on a greased baking sheet. She covered them to let them rise and went upstairs to take a shower.

  Chapter Ten

  Polly pulled into a spot on the street behind Sylvie, who was getting out of her car. Sylvie popped open the trunk and pulled out a platter. Polly could see her hesitation as she tried to figure out how to gather something else into her arms and jumped out. "Can I help you, Sylvie?"

  "I can't figure out how to pick these other things up. I suppose I could make two trips," she paused. "Yep, that's what I'll do."

  "No wait. I’ve only got a couple of baskets,” Polly said. “I can help you."

  She slung the baskets over her left arm and slammed the door shut on her truck. Approaching Sylvie's trunk, she saw the problem. The tray Sylvie had picked up first was a little front heavy and everything was coming off it if she wasn't careful. There were two grocery bags and another platter still on the floor. Polly slipped the loops of the bags over her right hand, then picked up the second platter, which she discovered was heavy!

  "Okay, wow. What is on here? Lead weights? You’re going to cause me to gain fifteen pounds in one evening," and she smiled as she looked up at Sylvie.

  "Most of the weight is decoration. I probably didn't need to, but I don't often get to show off any of my nice things." Sylvie reached up and pulled the trunk lid closed.

  "Thank you," she said. "The boys helped me load things and I didn't even think about carrying all of this in."

  "I feel a little paltry with my pathetic baskets of bread," Polly lamented.

  "Oh, don't. No one cares whether you bring anything or not, and you know," she winked, "Lydia and Andy love to cook. The only thing we can do is show up and enjoy their parties. You have to love 'em!"

  Andy came out of Beryl's front door, a bright red with ivory vines painted up the side panels. Even though it was dark, Polly began to see the effect of Beryl's artistic taste on the front of her home. The shutters were painted, red frames and ivory panels to match the door. The pillars on the stoop were wound tightly with vines entwined with red and white lights. The three half moon steps up to the stoop were edged in multi-colored bricks. There were sprays of dried flowers coming up out of immense vases with drops of lights through each of them and a matching wreath on the door.

  Andy crossed the yard to the two girls and taking one look at their offerings, grabbed the platter out of Polly's arms.

  "It's about time the two of you showed up,” she admonished. “We were beginning to wonder!"

  Polly turned her arm and looked at her watch, "But I'm still five minutes early!"

  "That doesn't matter," Andy said and flung the door open.

  "There you are," sang Beryl! "We were just talking about you two."

  "We're not late, are we?" Sylvie asked.

  "Oh, honey. Even if you were, you wouldn't be. We can hardly wait to get the evening started. Come in, come in!"

  Beryl took the platter out of Sylvie's arms and headed off into the house. Lydia came into the foyer and hugged the newcomers.

  "Hello there, girls! It's going to be a feast tonight!" She took the bags off Polly's arms and then took hold of the baskets. "Drop your jackets on the chair there and get inside. We'll get everyone warmed up in a minute."

  Lydia left the two alone in the foyer and they looked at each other. Taking a breath, Polly asked, "Have you ever been here before?"

  "Nope,” Sylvie said hesitantly. “We seem to have been left alone, though. Shall we enter?"

  Polly went first and then stopped as she looked into a room off the entrance hall.

  The front room was enveloped in color. There was no good place for her eye to land first. She breathed and tried to take it all in. There were four wing chairs. They were all the same shape, but each was covered differently. Reds and blues, greens and burgundies, yellows, oranges, deep purples and browns. Some of the patterns were geometric, there were fleur de lis and other shapes as well. Nothing matched, but it all fit together. There were several rugs piled on each other in places. Wooden side tables were filled with vases and candlesticks, picture frames and other knick knacks. A long table was pushed up under the front window and on it were plants and small china dolls. The front window was covered with sheer panels, and then burgundy and blue fabric was draped from the curtain rod. From the ceiling a chandelier covered in crystals softly lit the space and an immense mirror at the far end of the room reflected the entire effect, making the room seem quite deep. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in striped blue and ivory wallpaper which seemed to shimmer in the light.

  Five paintings were hung on the wall opposite the window. Polly stepped in to look at them more closely. Yes, there was Beryl's signature at the bottom of each. The center painting was the largest with two smaller paintings on either side. The large painting was of a tree in a meadow. At least that is what Polly saw when she looked at it closely. It was a little abstract, though she felt pretty confident she recognized the image. The four other paintings were obviously painted as complements, pulling their main color from one of the colors of the central painting. When she looked more closely, she saw that Beryl had taken a section of the tree and enlarged it, showing detail of what might be happening in the branches: a few birds and even a squirrel; a section of the meadow with a mouse and some other creatures, the sky with the sun glinting off clouds and the trunk of the tree with bugs and snails crawling through the bark. All abstract, all precise.

  "Look at this, Sylvie," she whispered. "Just look at this!"

  The two of them were staring at the paintings when Beryl peeked into the door.

  "You girls haven't gotten very far inside. This is going to be a long night if you stand around gaping at everything."

  "Beryl," Polly exclaimed, "this is absolutely amazing!" She looked back at the wall, “It's amazing!"

  "Enough. Come on, let's get going." Beryl said and when she walked over to them, she took both by the arm and propelled them back into the hallway.

  The hallway opened into a very comfortable livin
g room. The decor was quite different from the first room. Great, big comfortable couches were covered with quilts, knitted throws and pillows. Once again, multiple rugs covered the floor, overlapping each other. The theme for this room seemed to be denim. Huge pillows, covered in various shades of blue denim were positioned around the floor, tall candlesticks rose up from behind sofas and chairs with white candles standing on them. There was a fire in the fireplace and oversized lamps scattered around the room. The wooden tables were rustic and had magazines and art books scattered across them. Behind the sofa on the frontroom wall, an enormous bookshelf filled the space. Polly, distracted, walked over to peer behind the sofa. Two wooden stepstools invited someone to look at the top shelves, but Beryl was impatient.

  "Polly. Really." she said.

  "Are you kidding me with this, Beryl?" Polly asked. "You can't bring me into a place like this and not expect me to look around. There are so many amazing things."

  The walls in this room had no room for paintings, but Polly saw there were several smaller pieces amongst the things on the mantel of the fireplace. She started to walk over there to look at them and Beryl took her arm again.

  "That's enough. Come on," she said and tugged Polly towards the stairs leading down to another room. Polly saw there was a set of stairs leading up and assumed those went to bedrooms, but it didn't seem as if Beryl was going to let her explore. A small hallway wound to what Polly figured had to be the kitchen. She was dying to know what Beryl's kitchen looked like, but she was led down the steps into a fairyland.

  Twinkling lights were draped and swooping from lowered rafters. Another fireplace was filled with a crackling fire. A small kitchen and bar was tucked in under the stairway and a roomy table was elegantly set up with candles and flowers. It seemed every space on every wall in this room was taken up with paintings. A plush multi-colored carpet was underfoot and the overhead lamp was muted, bathing the room in a golden glow. Bookshelves lined the lower three feet of the room and as Polly glanced around, saw they lined the entire lower level of the house, even the front of the bar of the kitchen.